Connect! Sunday Reflection

Jesus tells the story of a farmer whose crop of wheat is attacked by an enemy who sows the seeds of weeds along with the grains of wheat. Once the violent act was done, there was no going back. The wheat and weeds had to be allowed to grow together.

Just as a seed, once it is planted, has a power within it that drives it to become the tree it is meant to be, so God's kingdom, once planted in our world and in our souls by Jesus himself, takes root and spreads its branches slowly but surely throughout all of human history.

A myriad of scenarios can explain the weight that we hold deep within. The older we get it seems as though the more baggage we tend to collect. Our baggage has become our comfort and definition. We don’t experience what Jesus promised because we fear, or we doubt. But Jesus is patient as he is persistent.

God is calling us to serve and love Him above all else. God speaks to us not as an optional side character in our stories, but as the passionate lover determined to make sure we know that the way to true happiness and freedom can only come from Him. The only way our stories will make sense is in light of the greater story of God’s plan of salvation for humanity.

Do we deny Jesus when we are uncomfortable, perhaps holding back who we are, particularly with family, friends, or co-workers? Does the warning Jesus speaks in Matthew’s Gospel hold no significance upon our actions?

Nothing can stop grace. But separation cannot be allowed to last forever. We must connect again. We need to embrace the Eucharistic presence of God and our community of faith again in order to fully be who we are called to be.

The Solemnity of the Most Holy Trinity reminds us that the God whom we adore is “one God in the Trinity” and “Trinity in unity” (from The Athanasian Creed), inviting us to consider that all of our relationships are reflections of that unique and dynamic communion that exists within God — the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.

This Pentecost is much like the first one. It finds us behind closed doors, in fervent prayer, longing for our Lord. The Holy Spirit leads us out into a world that has changed dramatically over the past year. However, the message is the same. God has won the victory in Jesus Christ.

I had thought it odd for the longest while that Jesus would say that he was going to go away. He had risen from the dead recently so couldn't he stick around? On pilgrimage in the Holy Land, in a small church which has a marbleized footprint on the ground commemorating the last step of Jesus as he was lifted into the sky, I was still confounded.

In the Gospel we hear Jesus say to us, “I will not leave you orphans, I will come to you…” This gospel is striking during our current times. In a time of confusion, suffering, uncertainty, and for many isolation and loneliness, God the Father is actively caring for us and telling each of us, you are not alone.

Promises have meaning and can be taken seriously when they come from God. In uncertain times, there is great comfort in the assurance of faith. In knowing the Way, the Truth, and the Life, which provides the means to how a heart can stay untroubled.

Do you ever feel that life is unfair? Is your faith in God still strong in the midst of hardship, confusion, anxiety and suffering? Can you love a God who leaves you with your suffering? If we look to the passion of Christ, we clearly see a God who does not eradicate or sidestep injustice and great suffering, but embraces them.

St. Luke presents Cleopas and his companion fleeing Jerusalem after the death and burial of Jesus and, although they had heard the testimony of the women that Jesus had been raised from the dead, their disappointment and grief would not allow them to believe such an amazing story. Their despair is captured in one simple but profound statement: “We had hoped…”

John tells us that Jesus shows himself to the apostles, "despite the locked doors." John is not just referring here to the heavy wooden doors of their hiding place. He is talking about the closed doors of their hearts. Jesus doesn't wait until they calm down or get perspective on the situation. Rather, he breaks through the door of their fear announcing the good news that he is alive.

St. Irenaeus of Lyons says that, “The business of the Christian is nothing else than to be ever preparing for death.” Monastic spirituality has embraced this preparation in many concrete ways because of the understanding that death is not a finality, but rather a passageway into eternal life!

This Lent, we’ve been called to give up far more than most had planned. We’ve been called to renew our hope and trust in God, who sees beyond earthly suffering not as a spectator, but as the one who took on flesh to feel deeply the pangs of human suffering, in order to redeem us. We are realizing God’s plans were not our plans, and His plans will bear so much more fruit.

Feeling anxious when someone we love becomes ill is normal. Turning to Jesus for help is wise. Waiting for an answer can be difficult. It must have seemed so confusing to Mary and Martha, knowing how much Jesus cared for their brother, that he would delay coming to his assistance. Yet, He had an even greater plan in mind.

Seeing is much more than just a function of our eyes. We can look at something with clear vision but not really see it. Often what we think we see is colored by our prejudices, assumptions and our needs. We think we are seeing clearly but we are not. Allowing God to restore our sight so that we can truly see is a worthy goal for our Lenten journey.

If we keep the themes of Baptism and discipleship in mind as we consider the value of fasting and sacrifice, we quickly realize that fasting isn’t about just giving up something we enjoy. The point of fasting is that we give up something that we enjoy to help us pay better attention to our deeper hungers and desires.

In the Gospel account of the Transfiguration we discover how we progress in the spiritual life: by embracing adversity, by looking upon the glorified face of Christ, and by going down the mountain to proclaim what we have seen to others.